


Good Morning

by EllieL



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: Bishmont, Episode 7, F/M, Fluffy Smut, Morning After, Vampires, Witches, these two horny idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: The morning after the "bundling" in Ep7.





	Good Morning

After falling asleep with Matthew curled protectively around her, she awoke alone in her childhood bed, quilt tucked snugly around her. For just a moment, she allowed herself to be hurt by that fact, just as she was hurt by his reluctance to fully consummate their relationship. But his hushed confession last night was enough for her to know that while it was not everything that was troubling him, it was a gesture of faith in her that he was willing to share some of his concerns, some of himself.

 

When she stretched and rose from the protective cocoon of blankets, any hurt in her mind was erased by the chair setting next to the tiny garret fireplace. Her clothes, shed so hastily across the house the night before, were folded neatly. Her shoes sat at attention on the floor just beneath. Smiling, she ran a hand across the sweater.

 

Dressing slowly, there was nothing in the quiet house to hurry her pace. It wasn’t clear whether he was giving her space or he needed some himself, but she wagered it was the latter when he hadn’t appeared by the time she headed downstairs.

 

Sarah was already rattling around in her stillroom, avoiding. Em sat at the table, a mug of steaming coffee in hand.

 

“There’s a fresh pot, if you’d like some.”

 

She shook her head, feeling awkward. “Is there tea?”

 

“Still in the cabinet on the left.”

 

Taking more time than the task truly required, she filled the kettle, put it to boil, and rummaged through the cabinet for tea bags. She could feel Em watching her. After a few minutes of silence where she stared resolutely at the kettle, willing it to boil, she heard Em’s mug clink to the table behind her.

 

“He went out early this morning.”

 

“He doesn’t sleep much.” It was half the truth, at least. She felt like a guilty teenager, not a thirtysomething woman. 

 

“Honey.” Em’s tone left her no choice but to turn and face her, rather than the fascinating old kettle. “You’re not sixteen and we’re not stupid. But do you really understand what you’re getting in to with him?”

 

“It’s more he’s getting in to it with me. I’m the one who called up Ashmole. But I don’t think either of us have a choice now, if we ever really did. Whatever happens, we’re in it together.”

 

Em gave her an appraising look. “So long as you’re both clear on that.”

 

“We are, Em.”

 

The smile Em gave her was tentative but real, and she gestured toward the back door. “If you’re going for a walk, you may want to head towards the orchard.”

 

“Thanks.” She took her mug, tea bag and all, and headed out into the crisp fall morning. It was cooler than it had been in France, the chill cutting through her sweater. She wrapped both hands around the steaming mug as she wandered towards the gnarled old apple trees.

 

There was still some fruit lingering on the branches, and she snagged a low-hanging apple and took a bite. It was juicy but tart, an apple for baking not for eating. She took a second bite before dropping it, the crunch carrying through the still air. Before she could swallow, she felt an iciness cooler than the morning’s air on her shoulders, from the far end of the orchard.

 

“Good morning, Matthew.” She didn’t raise her voice, or even turn his direction. 

 

No magic was required to follow his movement across the orchard; he moved at a mortal pace, crunching across the frosty grass. He wrapped his arms around her, not much warmer than the air but her body welcomed his embrace, melting back against his chest as he held her.

 

“Good morning my love.” He kissed the top of her head and seemed content to remain her that way.

 

Eventually though, Diana couldn’t help but softly ask, “What have you been doing out here?”

 

For the space of two beats of his heart he was quiet. “I needed to hunt.”

 

She stared down at the steam rising from the mug in her hands, hands she’d taunted him with last night. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have--”

 

“No you shouldn’t have.” Vehement, but his arms remained firmly around her. After another heartbeat, he dropped his head, nose tracing the curve of her ear. “I don’t ever want to lose control and put you in a situation where you have to use your magic to protect yourself from me.”

 

It was a subtly different point than he’d made the night before, and she wondered what deep secret he kept skirting the edge of, revealing in fragmentary concerns. Not quite trusting himself to share, or her to accept.

 

She was still for just a second before turning in to face him, tucking the steaming mug awkwardly between them. The response that sprang ready to her lips died as she saw the expression on his face, desire for her and fear of himself warring in his eyes.

 

“You won’t.” She was more certain about that than anything else in the world, but had no way to assure him. Instead she did the only thing she could, tipping up on her toes and kissing him. His response was slow to deepen but after a moment his body seemed to soften against her.

 

“Is that love speaking, or magic?”

 

“Magic.” She kissed him again. “But our love is magic, too. You can feel it.”

 

He traced the curve of her jaw, then slid his thumb down to rest on her steady pulse. “Is that what your blood is singing to me? I’ve never heard anything like it.”

 

Nodding as she stepped back, she took a sip of the cooling tea, then reached out a hand to him. With only a faintly perplexed look, he took it and followed her to the far corner of the orchard. A fallen tree had been carved into a bench, and he allowed her to gently push him down to sit on it. Surprise flickered across his face when rather than sitting next to him, she sat down astride his lap.

 

Putting the mug down at arm’s length, she tangled her fingers through his hair before bowing her head and kissing him deeply. It took only a second for him to respond, tongue tangling with hers as his hands slid under her cardigan, finding the bare skin exposed at the small of her back.

 

“Tell me what you feel.” 

 

His eyes were dark and he smiled easily at her as his hands roved over her body, one on her hip pulling her even closer to him, one sliding up her back under the hem of her shirt. “You know I can hear your heart. It’s beating faster now, and that blood is racing like a Viennese waltz.”

 

“It feels like champagne in my veins.”

 

Burying his face at her the junction of her neck and shoulder, she heard him groan. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, if this was only making it more difficult for him. But her attempt to pull back was met with resistance, and while she didn’t think it possible, he only pulled her closer. The effect on her was feeling clearer, as was his response.

 

At her carotid, she felt the flick of his tongue on her skin, once, careful. “It’s bubbling to the surface, as blood vessels dilate and blood pressure rises. Everywhere I touch, like a magnet.” His hand trailed down her spine, and she shivered as she felt the truth in his words.

 

“Everywhere you want me to touch.” His hand released the hold her her hip, leaving her swaying just a bit, as it slid between them to brush the juncture of her legs through the thin leggings she was wearing. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

His hand brushed across her again, once. “And every time I touch you, there’s something else, something….” 

 

“Yes,” gasped as his hand slid under the waist of her leggings, lower, cool against the heat between her legs, exactly where she wanted him. “Resonant between us.”  

 

“I can feel it, almost hear it,” he whispered into the curve of her ear. His tongue traced the edge of her earlobe, teeth barely scraping across tender skin. 

 

Her hips pushed against him, wanting his fingers just a fraction lower, wanting more than his hand between her legs. “I can feel it in my whole body.” She opened her eyes, looked down at him, at the raw desire on his face; he wanted more too, and she didn’t understand why he would not take it. 

 

Instead, she felt a finger glide through her wetness, into her. Perfectly, just as he had that first night, from the very first time he’d touched her, exactly how she wanted to be touched, without ever having to say a word. 

 

“Matthew.” Eyes that had drifted closed snapped open, met hers. The desire was still there, but tempered by a struggle for control of it. Her thumb stroked across his cheek, down to pinch the lobe of his ear. His hands stilled against her, making it easier to think. “What do you feel when I touch you?”

 

His head tilted into her touch, eyes fluttering closed again. “Warmth. You make me feel alive again. Just touching you makes me feel alive again.”

 

One of her hands strayed lower, was splayed across his chest before he stopped her, eyes locked on hers.

 

“Not here.”

 

“We’re alone, Matthew. No one will bother us here.” Her hand slid back up to his shoulders, shifting her balance against him a bit. She could feel him responding to her proximity, even if he wanted to deny his desires.

 

He gave a soft little growl before shifting away from her, just enough that she was no longer quite so flush against him. But his hand remained between her legs, resumed its teasing, intensifying.

 

“You like it out here? Outside, here and in the forest.” His words were punctuated by the increasingly firm brush of his thumb over her clit, alternating with the twitching of his finger inside her, just so, just right.

 

It was all she could do to nod, trying to find words to respond. “Anywhere. With you, anywhere.”

 

“You feel more alive here.” It wasn’t a question, didn’t require an answer, which she appreciated as he slipped a second finger into her, and she had to rest both hands on his broad shoulders to stay upright.

 

“It’s magic.”

 

His lips traced her jaw and her breathing intensified, found her earlobe as she gasped. “So warm. So alive.”

 

“Let me— I want you to—“

 

“Shh.” He silenced her easily with his lips. “You don’t have to. I want to watch you.”

 

All her senses felt heightened with him, and her body responded to his touch faster than she’d ever believed possible. She knew herself, knew her body well, and still he found ways to touch her that sent her to the edge with a fervor and intensity she hadn’t known was possible. Her orgasm startled her in its ease and potency, left her breathless and limp against him, forehead resting in the crook of his neck. One strong arm held her close, the other still between them.

 

Slowly, her senses returned to her, her breathing steadied. She lifted her forehead from his shoulder to look at him, taking in the mirth in his eyes. “You enjoy that.”

 

“Very much.” He kissed her again, deeply, as he moved his hand from between her legs, capturing her gasp of loss. “I want to enjoy that every day.”

 

She wrapped her arms around him, smiling. “Every day. I like the sound of that.”

 

“Good. Now let’s go get you some breakfast. You’re ravenous.”

 

She was, though she could think of a few things she’d like to devour beyond scrambled eggs as she allowed his to lead her back through the orchard to the house. All in good time, she hoped, and she would make him feel as alive as he made her feel. She could already see the change in him, a thaw, a warmth, no longer same the frightening vampire she’d first met in Oxford.

 

*

 


End file.
